


depressing thoughts

by tjstar



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Roadshow, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecurity, M/M, Secret Relationship, Trichotillomania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:12:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8519800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: Tyler pulls his hair way too hard.





	

He knows that the Clique notices that, they are incredibly good at spotting all the little things like this one. Well, this _thing_ is Tyler’s hair. His shiny brown hair.

He’s seen tens of the gifsets where he’s fisting his hair, twisting it, pulling at it, and there is no distraction anymore. He sometimes feels like his hands don’t belong to him.

“Stop doing that,” Josh says softly, tugging at Tyler’s wrist and untangling his fingers from the messy hair on the top of his head. “It looks amazing,” Josh ensures.

Tyler sighs as he sees thin dark threads clamped between his ink-stained fingers before pulling at his hair again; it feels like the smooth silk and smells like coconut shampoo.

“Tyler,” Josh’s hand gently fights Tyler’s as he manages to tug once again, harder this time, ripping some of the hair off his scalp.

“I can’t,” Tyler looks down at his hands before wiping them on the kangaroo pocket of his mustard hoodie. “I thought I grew over it, but- you see?” he runs his hands over the receding hairline. “You can’t watch me all the time, Josh, sometimes I’m doing this in my sleep.”

“You can’t give up, Tyler. You’re strong,” Josh encourages him just because this is what the best (boy)friends do.

Tyler shakes his head.

Josh doesn’t let Tyler’s nasty habits get him too bad or pull too rough, but Josh is just a temporary cure.

Tyler keeps doing the ‘hair-pulling thing’ – as the fans call it – while he’s thinking. While he’s onstage and Josh doesn’t have a chance to slap his hand.

In his sleep.

This is probably the worst- Tyler promises not to do this again, not to get stressed out over the stupid tweets and Tumblr posts, but his hands keep tugging and gripping, and he wakes up with a migraine, the skin on his head stings and his pillow is covered with his own hair.

That’s not healthy.

He’s had a huge mental breakdown years ago, and for some reason decided to put that on display- in the music video, sitting in the corner, choking on the collar of his button-up shirt and nearly convulsing from the unresolved inward conflict.

The hair clipper was his remedy.

Tyler tried to scrape his scalp with his fingernails, searching for his hair but calming down a little as he didn’t have anything to cling on. He was sure that the bizarre haircut had ruined his whole _aesthetic_ look, but he didn’t care. As least, the urge to pull out all of his hair one by one was gone.

For such a long time.

Josh said Tyler looked cute.

Josh never insults him.

They’re sitting on the bed in the hotel room, still buzzed after the show, getting a huge feedback all over their social media profiles, but something just feels out of place.

And Tyler’s hands are now locked in Josh’s, big and calloused, thumbs slowly rubbing Tyler’s bitten fingernails.

“You’re shivering,” Josh frowns in worry. “We can turn off the air-conditioning.”

Tyler is frozen inside. It’s getting too much, too big- winning the awards, getting lots of fans all over the world and being officially married to Jenna but spending every single night in Josh’s hotel rooms. Hiding his relationship with Josh, pretending, pretending, playing the role, _and Blurry rears his head again-_

“I want to hurt myself so bad,” Tyler groans, releasing his hands from Josh’s grasp and reaching for the ruffled hair on the crown of his head.

He wraps the mussed strand around his finger and tugs as hard as he can. It hurts. The pain feels right.

“Don’t do this. We can talk about this instead,” Josh offers.

“I can’t stop,” Tyler runs the tip of his tongue over his dry lips.

Josh always understands, he doesn’t ask him stupid questions- he’s just doing something that no one else is able to do when Tyler loses himself in the abyss of his subconscious (in recent days, this happens way too often).

He starts to wear a black baseball cap and knit beanies to try and kill the desire to torture and twist his hair, maybe litter the scalp with scrapes.

His music is not his armor anymore.

Tyler needs something, someone, he doesn’t want to be known as just a ‘paranoid dude from twenty one pilots’, no.

Tyler nuzzles the crook of Josh’s neck, clutching at the hem of his plain black t-shirt with both his hands, leaving the closed circle of his thoughts for a moment. Josh encloses him in a tight hug, his hands roaming up and down Tyler’s back as he whispers that they can be strong together, and Tyler got such a beautiful hair.

“Your hair is beautiful, too,” Tyler compliments back, blinking at the shaggy pink curls.

Tyler’s hands are sweating, the unspoken words sit like a lump in his throat, and he’s a second away from starting to rip his hair off-

Josh doesn’t let him, a firm grip on Tyler’s arms, Josh’s chin presses on the top of Tyler’s head.

“You know how to solve the problem, you did it once,” Josh drawls as if he doesn’t mean it.

“Are you talking about, like,” Tyler’s voice still sounds raspy from the cold he’s managed to catch in Norway. “Shaving?”

“Exactly,” Josh responds with a light nod.

_They’re gonna mock him, because the Clique has changed a lot, and Tyler is definitely not okay when he’s getting offensive comments no matter how hard he tries to ignore that-_

Tyler tousles his hair- soft, fluffy, he knows how much Josh enjoys touching it, playing with it when they’re cuddling in the bed, _and Tyler just doesn’t have a right to be so selfish-_

“I want to do that,” Tyler whispers timidly. “But Josh, what if it will look… _weird_?

 _Disgusting_ , he wants to cry out loud.

“This is your choice, and I’m gonna respect that,” Josh says confidently.

Tyler has a hair clipper in his backpack. He’s already prepared. Always prepared.

Tyler doesn’t hold himself back from twisting his brown locks as he and Josh silently enter the bathroom, holding the hair clipper like a weapon. Tyler tugs at his hair angrily, huffing from the nagging pain and feeling the thin strand falling out and sticking to the sweat on his palm.

This time, Josh doesn’t stop him. It’s Tyler’s way to say goodbye to his lovely quiff.

He’s aware he already has few fingernail-sized bald spots, he is working really hard on covering them up with his remained _healthy_ hair and beanies. But it’s hard to cope, and the fans are going to figure everything out anyway.

“Are you gonna do this by yourself?” Josh asks him, plugging the hair clipper to the socket.

“No, I’d like to…” Tyler’s fingers now tweak the smooth bare skin on the top of his head. One of his countless secrets. “Can you do this for me?”

“Of course.”

The humming in Tyler’s ears drowns in the buzzing of the hair clipper, and Tyler feels it being pressed against his temple like a barrel of a gun.

Tyler flinches and closes his eyes.

He’s suddenly afraid of all the hate he might get for his quirks.

“Ready?” Josh is still fumbling with the device.

“Yes,” Tyler nods, opening his eyes only to see the light chunks of his hair fall on his shoulders, sneak under the collar of his hoodie and gather like a cobweb on the mustard fleece.

It feels right.

It reminds him of the rotten leaves covering the dead ground. His head feels cold.

Tyler stares down at the ceramic tiles on the floor, at his socks, at the brown hair piling in front of him as he keeps his head down, and Josh works diligently on shaving the sides of his head, the top of his head, the nape.

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” Josh soothes him.

“I’m gonna become a meme,” Tyler answers with a strangled chuckle.

He’s doing this for his own good, but the anxiety claws at his chest again.

Josh rubs his warm palm over Tyler’s now bald head, Tyler swears he can feel every callus on Josh’s roughenedfingers- he’s almost forgotten this sense.

Josh helps Tyler brush his hair off his shoulders and pants, letting him turn towards the mirror on the cupboard. Tyler’s mouth goes dry as he sees his /nervous/refreshed self. He feels like it’s 2012 again, the time when Tyler couldn’t fight his dark thoughts anymore. Tyler still has thin, barely visible scars on his stomach. He still loathes the ceiling fans.   

His head is perfectly hairless, and Tyler presses his fingertips to the uncovered skin, nipping there to make sure he’s not dreaming.

The fans at their tomorrow’s show are gonna be shocked.

The press is going to eat him alive, he’s sure.

Josh hugs him from behind, blowing the remains of the shaven hair off Tyler’s neck. It tickles.

“You look…” Josh sinks his teeth in his bottom lip, hesitating to continue.

Tyler’s brain is about to burst.

Does he look ugly for Josh?

Too insecure?

Hideous?

“How?” Tyler hunches his shoulders and curls his numb fingers around the edge of a bathtub.

“…like an alien,” Josh finally finishes the sentence.

Tyler turns back to him with the relieved but sad grin.

“Would you mind if I borrow your beanie for the interview?”

Josh cackles, brushing his lips over Tyler’s earlobe.

“Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by tyler's haircut, of course


End file.
